


No More Excuses (N.M.E.)

by literally_no_idea



Series: Decking Howard [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 10:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17979494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literally_no_idea/pseuds/literally_no_idea
Summary: "Why is he dressed like he’s from the 40s" is Clint’s first thought when he’s sent to interrogate the guy who had mysteriously knocked on the front door of SHIELD headquarters, asking about their IT department. Then he realizes that the person in front of him is a young Howard Stark, which means he actually is from the 40s, and damn it, Clint doesn’t get paid enough to deal with two Starks.--title from the Set It Off song "N.M.E."





	No More Excuses (N.M.E.)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to the series, or if you're new, welcome! It's once again "deck Howard Stark" time!
> 
> This entire series can be read as separate stories, there's no connection between them besides the connection of Howard's face with people's fists. As it should be.

_ Why is he dressed like he’s from the 40s _ is Clint’s first thought when he’s sent to interrogate the guy who had mysteriously knocked on the front door of SHIELD headquarters, asking about their IT department. Then he realizes that the person in front of him is a young Howard Stark, which means he actually  _ is _ from the 40s, and damn it, Clint doesn’t get paid enough to deal with two Starks.

 

Clint sighs, sitting down across the table from Howard Stark. “Do you know where you are, sir?” Clint asks, because he might hate this, but he’s here on a mission, so he’s going to get the information he needs and leave, and that’s that.

 

“SHIELD headquarters, the one and only, because I designed the place myself. Admittedly, it’s much more advanced now, but it’s still based on my original blueprints,” Howard says, and seriously, does arrogance run in the family? Can that even  _ be _ genetic?

 

“Okay. And you would be?” Clint asks, because better to have the person answer the questions, never let them know how much, or how little, you really know.

 

Howard frowns. “Well, I’d have expected more respect for my name here, though I suppose my son’s run my good name and reputation into the ground at this point. He never was capable of much,” Howard adds, face screwing up as if just talking about Tony leaves a bad taste in his mouth, and okay, this is more interesting. No, Clint, stay on task here.

 

“You still haven’t told me who you are.”

 

“Howard Stark, rightful owner of Stark Industries. It’s truly unbelievable, that a woman is running Stark Industries now. And not even a Stark! No, my son couldn’t even keep Stark Industries in the family, he just gave it away to some blonde and walks away, as if I didn’t work my ass off to get this company to where it is. Instead my son throws away this company, my legacy, and ruins it, stops making weapons, leaves our good country and its defenders weak because he’s too spineless to make weapons anymore,” Howard spits.

 

Clint knows he’s supposed to be professional. He knows that he’s here on a mission. He can deal with this disgusting excuse for a sperm donor. He can do it, just for a few more minutes, and then he can leave. He just needs to know… “Do you know how to get back to where you came from?”

 

“Maybe. But even if I did, clearly there’s work I need to do here first, if this country and my legacy is ever going to be preserved. Now if you could just let me leave, seeing as I own this building anyway, that would be appreciated.” Howard stands and starts to walk towards the door.

 

_ Oh no you don’t, you walking dumpster fire, _ Clint thinks, and he’s in front of the door before Howard can get within five feet of it. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, but I’m going to have to ask you to stay for a little while longer. I have a few more questions for you, and undoubtedly my superiors will want to speak with you,” he says, as nicely as he can manage, and Howard glares at him, not moving any closer but not sitting back down, either.

 

“What do you need to know?” Howard asks, “I believe I’ve already explained my situation regarding going back, and I’ve already told you who I am.”

 

“Well, what exactly are you hoping to accomplish when you leave this building today?”

 

“I’m going to talk to my son about the path he’s chosen in life, and see if I can’t get that boy back on the straight and narrow. Clearly he’s made so many mistakes that he needs a firmer hand to remind him what he’s supposed to be doing with his life and my legacy. The only good he does anymore is the work he does on that team of yours, but even that he refuses to share the technology with our good men in the armed forces.”

 

“And women,” Clint adds, because he needs to make sure that Howard doesn’t realize his mistake in revealing that he knows Clint’s identity and Tony’s refusal to give up the Iron Man suit, because that means that Howard’s been here for much longer than just showing up at SHIELD, and he probably either knows how to get home or he’s here because he can do it with the technology SHIELD has.

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Good men and women in the armed forces,” Clint says, and Howard scoffs.

 

“Sure, if you prefer. Women usually stick to the paperwork, but if that makes you feel better.”

 

You know, Clint is really starting to get tired of this guy. It would probably be wrong to shove him through the wall, right? Right. Tony Stark might be a nuisance sometimes, but his father? His father is actually disgusting, and Clint’s starting to feel bad for even mentally comparing the two at the start of all this.

 

“Can I leave then?” Howard asks, and Clint shakes his head.

 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave yet.” Clint’s a little proud of how much of the disgust he kept out of his voice.  _ Well done, Clint, you’ve still got your secret spy skills. Score.  _ Howard looks like he’s going to have a fit right in front of Clint, and Clint braces himself for the inevitable altercation that’s about to happen.

 

“How dare you treat me like this? This is the United States, you can’t just hold people against their will and you know that! You’ll let me leave this instant! I have rights, and-”

 

Yeah, Clint’s had enough. He’s thrown Howard down on his back on the table before the man can finish his sentence. “No, you don’t have rights, not in this century, you petrified corpse,” he says, leaning in close, “And you know what? When I realized who you were, I was expecting another annoying Tony Stark, but you are so, so much worse. God, sexism aside, your personality is as appealing as a limp, overcooked strand of pasta. I don't know how you managed to get a wife, because I’m sure with that kind of personality you’re overcompensating for a mediocre dick, too. Go to back to wherever it is that you belong, then go to hell. Tell Satan I wish I could have sent you there myself.”

 

Clint stands back up, looking Howard up and down one last time, and then he punches him once, swift and sharp, in the face, and Howard’s out cold, head thudding down on the table. Clint nods, satisfied, and steps out of the room just as three SHIELD agents coming running towards him. “Good, you can get rid of him,” Clint says, and then he’s walking down the hall towards the parking lot, because he needs to think about his opinions about Tony, and then he needs a drink, because fuck, he seriously needs a raise.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I've finally started writing some of these in advance, so if anyone's curious, I'll be posting Thor's chance to punch Howard soon.


End file.
